


PDA (Persistent Drumstick Assault)

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: The Who
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 12:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10571211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Can I request a fic where Pete Townshend is your boyfriend and he shows a lot of pda with you in front of the other members of the who? just a really cute fluffy fic in general? sfw or not its up to you!'You can PDA all you like. Keith may not approve.





	

“Pete!”

You giggle as your boyfriend kisses your neck, and his pale blue eyes gaze into your for a moment. You stroke your fingers down the side of his long face, and plant a kiss on his nose; you honestly feel like the only two people in the world-

A drumstick narrowly misses your head, and you duck, looking around Pete to see Keith sitting at his drum kit trying to look nonchalant. If he wasn’t holding the other drumstick ready to throw, you might be more inclined to believe it wasn’t him.

“Sorry, love, it slipped,” he said, unconvincingly. “Are you done sucking Pete’s face off?” You roll your eyes, and look around.

“Where’s Rog?”

“He left to get a cuppa,” John says, from where he’s perched atop a table. “I thought you were just saying goodbye, (Y/N)?” You nod, confused. “You’ve been here for t-”

“ _Eleven_ minutes, _forty-five_ seconds, _sah_!” Keith shouts, and hits the cymbal for good measure. Pete winces and his fingers fly to his ear. “(Y/N), we love you, we really do, we love you like a sister, well, hopefully Pete doesn’t ‘cause that’d be awkward, but-”

“We have _practise_ ,” Roger announces, sweeping in through the door. “I’m sorry, love, but you _live_ with him.” His blond curls bounce as he tilts his head. “Or, you might as well.”

“Living in sin with a rock star,” Keith sighs. “What _must_ your mother think?”

“She thinks John’s cute,” you reply back smartly, and John’s eyes widen a little, as a small smile crosses his mouth. “Anyway, fine, I’ll finish saying goodbye and then I’ll go.” You cradle Pete’s cheek again, and he kisses you softly; you giggle, and he spins you around, before patting your butt.

“Go on,” he says softly, and you hurry to the door, narrowly missing the other drumstick.

“Keith!”

“ _It slipped!_ ”


End file.
